


Revenge

by keirajo



Series: TF:MTMTE/LL-A.U. (divergence from canon) [6]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Developing Relationship, Drama, F/M, Friendship/Love, M/M, Romance, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 20:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14480772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: Getaway finally gets what's coming to him.   And Rodimus falls................Piece 1 (of 4) of the Unicron/Power of the Primes-ish tie-in story-arc.





	Revenge

**_ Revenge _ **

 

 

 

_While our regular, beloved **Lost Light** crew—abandoned on the world [formerly] owned by the Necrobot—were dealing with a few issues here and there…….something was happening on Cybertron.   An event, which would have repercussions to affect the universe [probably]._

 

 

            “I _won’t_ tell you what to do, Windblade…and I have _never_ denied my faults,” Starscream sighed, staring down at the holographic image of the new public works project he’d designed and hoped to begin working on when he got re-elected.   “I hope that you understand—politics are a very dirty game and before you jump into whatever they’ve all pressured you into……………….” he trailed off, straightening up and finally turning to the representative from Caminus, “……………understand that if you choose to bury me under my faults and take the reins, you will be giving up many of the freedoms that you currently enjoy.”

            “You’re _not_ going to stop me!”   Windblade snapped, still infuriated at everything she had discovered from Rattrap’s documents and photos about Starscream.  She knew he’d done dirty things, she had never been aware of just how dark and deep they truly were…………nor the fact that he had been talking to himself and calling the person he was talking to “Bumblebee”, showing he was not completely mentally balanced.   She was _not_ going to let Starscream’s persuasiveness sway her on this matter.

            “ _God forbid_ ,” Starscream laughed.  “No, I just said I _wouldn’t_ stop you.”   Starscream gazed back down at his public works project and slightly sideways to look at Bumblebee, who merely had his head tilted curiously at him.  “I merely want you to fully understand what it is that you’re grasping at.  The lessons **_I_** learned when I finally got what I thought it was that I wanted.”

            Windblade was only getting angrier.   She was infuriated at how cool and calm Starscream was right now.    Windblade thought that she and Starscream had _finally_ come to a true understanding with each other through their fight with Vigilem, inside of Windblade’s mind.   She thought that he’d realize that his best bet to survive this vote would be to _support her_ , instead!

            “Once you take charge, you will _not_ be able to flit about………mingling with the masses, as you please,” Starscream said, firmly, locking optics with her.   “You will _probably not_ be able to take a hand in _all_ the projects to better life for the people, as you so dearly love to do.   You will _not_ be able to do everything that you are already _the best_ at doing,” he added, turning away from the female Camien.   Starscream gazed at the apparition of Bumblebee that he had become so familiar over the past few years, as he said his next words.   “On the other hand, _you and I_ are a good team.  I am not afraid to do the dark things, smiling like a winner………….and you are a people person who loves being out there with the people.”   Then the current ruler of Cybertron turned to Windblade, smiling at her—a smile that was, perhaps, the _most honest_ smile he’d ever shown any individual.   “I think that you and I would be better as _partners_ ………..and bring about a new Golden Age on Cybertron, _together_ ,” Starscream said, very softly, as he extended a hand towards her.

            Windblade was all prepared to argue _anything_ he said with him.   She was ready to snap at him, even storm over and hit him if she had to!   But then Starscream’s words finally sank in and she looked at the extended hand  _Did he_ …………?   Was he _seriously_ ………….?    Her faceplate darkened, not with rage……..but with embarrassment!   Instead of saying a word, she turned on her heel and raced out of the room…………her fuel pump rushing with lifeblood, pounding in her audios.

            “Well, _maybe_ she’ll come back for this,” Starscream chuckled, looking to his left as he picked up the case containing all of his lies and cover-ups.   “Tch, really?   You know I’ve changed ‘Bee!”  He growled, placing it on a shelf under the table.

 

*       *      *      *      *

 

            And soon enough came the day of the debates.   Before the debates, however, Windblade returned to Starscream’s office with a cooler head and asked for the case of dirty secrets back.    She didn’t say anything at all to the ruler of Cybertron except for a low, muttered “thanks”.   Then she vanished instantly.   She never gave any response to his subtle proposal.   Reluctantly, Starscream started packing up things in his office……he knew it wouldn’t belong to him much longer.   He wondered how much of it he would be allowed to take to his new living area—which would probably be somewhere deeper than the general jail cells.

            “Yes, that’s _exactly_ what I’m doing,” Starscream said to the empty room—more specifically, to his hallucinatory companion.   He sealed up the small box and plopped it onto the desk.   “ _Seriously_?   You’re going to nag on about _that_?”   He moaned, leaning on the desk, staring at his desk chair with annoyance in his dimly glowing red optics.  “Look, you know exactly what she’s going to throw at the media…………everything they’ve always wanted to ensure I get thrown into a deeper, darker cell than Megatron.”

            After a pause of like two minutes, suddenly Starscream’s head jerked up and he stared towards the window—where his apparition of Bumblebee had moved to, talking only in Starscream’s head.   He looked far more upset than angry.

            “You think I don’t realize that?!   That I _deserve_ my fate?”  Starscream snapped in the general direction of the large window, shaking an angry finger.  “ _Tch_ , forget it.   I’m tired of arguing all this with you, Bumblebee.   Megatron was a hell of a lot more clever—he finagled the system to get a nice cushy jail onboard Rodimus’ ship,” he sighed, shaking his head and staring back down at the desk.   At the box in front of him.   “But me, I’ve _always_ been the loser…………….ever since I first came online,” he said, almost with a tone of sadness and regret in his voice.

            Intaking a few deep breath cycles, Starscream finally turned towards the door to head for the stage and saw Rattrap just standing hesitantly in the doorway.   Starscream _could_ have been angry, because Rattrap was the one who likely gave all that information to Windblade.   He could have tantrumed, he could have _raged_ ……..he _could have even attacked_ the smaller mech.   But he _wasn’t_ angry.   He was just _tired_.

            “Congratulations, you’re getting the ending you wanted,” Starscream said to his former assistant.

            “Boss, you know I didn’t want it to end like this…….I just………..” Rattrap trailed off, regretting just a small bit that he did what he did.

            Starscream just waved a hand as he walked past the smaller Cybertronian.   He cycled through another deep breath intake and then put his cool, public face on.   It was time to get this _over with_.

            Starscream walked to his podium and stood at it, pretending to be bored, that all of this was _unnecessary_.   He listened to the announcers ramping up the crowd—it reminded Starscream of how the games in the gladiator pits used to go.   Well, _why not_ ………….it was _still fighting_ —just _fighting with words_ instead of fists and weapons.    The annoying thought that Megatron would probably be good at _this_ type of fighting as well had crossed his mind and irked him slightly.  The swell of excitement permeated the atmosphere with both a kind of lightness _and_ a kind of heaviness.  This would be the first election since Starscream fought for it with Bumblebee……….except now there was _more_ than simply Autobots, Decepticons and unaffiliated—this time the colonists could vote [by remote] and the delegate from Earth would be able to vote [to represent all of Earth].   The numbers would be wider spread and likely ensure a very close vote for all candidates.   _Maybe_.

            Finally the announcer introduced the three candidates and motioned to Windblade, as the newest to the ticket, to make her speech first.   After all candidates had a small, introductory speech………debates on pre-chosen topics would commence for the next few hours.

            “I would like to _thank everyone_ who supported me arriving to this point, but for the last few days I have had _another’s_ words to consider,” Windblade began, her multi-layered light voice firm and serious.   “Regardless of his rocky start, his selfish nature and his long history of unpleasant things……………Starscream has imparted some _very important_ words of wisdom to me in the few years that I’ve known him now.   Just since I have arrived, I have watched him _improve_ as a leader.”   Windblade paused, breathing in deeply before continuing.   “He recently shared something with me, that I had not thought much about……….and now I finally realize, I _needed_ to think very hard upon it.”

            Starscream perked up……….. _this_ was certainly a strange turn of events.   More likely she was setting him up to crash and burn, as _everyone else_ ever had…………..but, oddly, it almost felt like she _might_ withdraw from the ticket.

            “To be honest, what I’ve seen from politics and campaigning……….. _I cannot bear it_ ,” she said, very softly.  “No matter how much we all wish politics could be honest and clean, I do not believe they can be,” Windblade continued, looking very determinedly out into the masses of people.   “It truly takes _someone strong_ , who _isn’t_ afraid of what people think of them……..and who _isn’t_ afraid to wade in the muck and play dirty.   I have realized that I don’t believe I can go _that low_.   Starscream made me think about my strengths and weaknesses because I chose to join the ticket—I do not believe my strengths make me suitable to be a singular leader of an entire coalition of worlds.”   Windblade focused and made her voice louder, stronger.   “My strengths are best used to inspire and ignite change on the ground, _not from above_!”

            Starscream truly began to feel puzzled over this change in Windblade.   Though she seemed as strong as ever—was she truly on the verge of giving up?    _Why would she ever do that?_    From what all the preliminary polls were showing, she was well on her way to victory!

            “So, Starscream— ** _if_** you were serious about what you said the other day…………” Windblade trailed off, bracing herself against the waves of anxiety within her.   She took a deep intake of breath again.  “ _If that truly was a proposal_ —then I **_accept_** your proposal!”   She said, loudly and firmly.

            A massive wave of gasps and excited squeals erupted and rippled through the audience.   Starscream smiled, leaving the safety of his podium and walked over to Windblade, holding out a hand—just as he had done in his office a few days ago.

            “You saw my soul, so you know I wasn’t lying about how we would make good partners,” Starscream chuckled.   Since he was not before the microphone, only the three on the stage could hear his words.    But people in the crowd saw Starscream’s mouth moving and _probably_ assumed it was a Conjunx Endura proposal—in a way, they _weren’t_ wrong.

            The crowd went wild, especially when Windblade chuckled warmly…..……left her podium………….and took Starscream’s hand in both of hers.    The old Seeker and the young Cityspeaker touched their foreheads together in a gesture of warmth and fondness.   This gesture whipped the crowds into an absolute frenzy.  In a few hours…………hell, in probably a _few moments_ ………….a still of this gesture would be splashed over all the media outlets on Cybertron.   There was _no way_ that Elita One’s campaign would triumph over the **_power of love_**.

            Windblade’s subsequent withdrawal from the candidacy and support for Starscream instead—showing a desire for a _partnership of leaders_ —would surely tilt any skew of the numbers in Starscream’s favor.   And Starscream’s show of a soft emotion on a huge public stage………..with photo stills and video to prove it _really happened_ ………..would make him massively more likable to all Cybertronians and their affiliates!

 

 

_And now…………….rejoining the general area of our favorite exiles, with their story already in progress…………._

 

 

            Out in the depths of space, a mid-range size Cybertronian-designed cruiser was about to make planetfall on a small world with a vast secret.

            Fortress Maximus had found some crew members of the _Lost Light_ fleeing from the ship.   After many elaborate and bizarre explanations were shared, the current officer of the Tyrest Accord _now_ knew where the abandoned and/or dead crew members had been left.   It was something he had been trying to uncover for months now.   After viewing the message and not knowing where the Necrobot’s world was, he had been torn over which end to pursue first—seeing if any of Rodimus’ abandoned crew had survived their encounter with the DJD or going after Getaway in an act of vengeance so epic that it would destroy any future of his remaining an officer of the law.

            Especially after coming across the Protectobots and others, Max had finally chosen to see that Rodimus and the others’ final wishes were honored……..then he would see about what to do on the case of the mutinous escapologist.

            “Hey Max,” Cerebros began from his co-pilot’s station onboard the cruiser.   “I’m actually reading a whole lot of lifesigns down there,” he added, checking all the data showing on the screen before him.

            “Well, Megatron’s portion of the message had said that Tarn and Deathsaurus joined forces……..they _may_ have colonized the planet,” Fortress Maximus murmured, getting up from his pilot’s seat and walking over to the weapons locker in the small bridge area.  “Hot Spot, you and anyone else up for a fight should get ready,” he said to the leader of the Protectobots.

            First Aid was still in the medi-bay of the cruiser, attending Thunderclash’s injuries.   However the remaining Protectobots, as well as Riptide, lined up at the weapons locker.

            “Max, _wait_!!!   The data’s recognized over half of these Spark-signatures so far!”  Cerebros yelled, glancing back at his service partner.   “Rodimus and the others are down there and _they’re alive_ ………..there’s just a whole lot more people with them!”  The Cybertronian brain surgeon cried excitedly.   Happiness completely filled the tone of his voice.   Cerebros’ cheerfulness kept Fortress Maximus on the right path and didn’t let the world become so dark around him.

            Fortress Maximus stopped handing out weapons and motioned at the others to hand them all back.   He laughed heartily as he closed the weapons locker and walked back to the piloting console.  “Leave it to Rodimus to pick up strays even if he were about to die!”  Max chuckled.  “Seriously, though………….we _need_ to get their communications array fixed or else this could have been very messy!”   He added with a sly grin.

            After he landed the cruiser in a wide-open space that looked to be a former battlefield, he got ready to exit the ship and cautioned everyone else to remain inside—for as the law officer expected, a couple dozen Cybertronians were surrounding the ship once it landed, their weapons ready for anything.   He told Cerebros and Hot Spot to wait and keep everyone inside until he’d made contact with Megatron or Rodimus or _someone in command_.   With that, Fortress Maximus finally exited his cruiser………….hands immediately in the air as the universal sign of peace and surrender as he walked away from the boarding ramp and looked for someone familiar.

            “Wow, _Magnus_!”  Max laughed as he spotted his predecessor.  “You’re all bulked up!”   He added, clasping hands with the Lost Light’s second-in-command.  “It’s got to be Brainstorm’s work—am I right?”  He asked, smiling warmly.

            “Even so,” Ultra Magnus answered, nodding.   “ _How_ did you find this place?”  He asked, tilting his head curiously at his successor.

            “I owe it to the hitchhikers I picked up……….otherwise it probably would’ve been a few more months before we narrowed down the area of the transmission,” Fortress Maximus chuckled, waving a hand lightly and smiled up at Magnus.  “Is _Rodimus_ here?   Or _Megatron_?   Or……….I guess, whomever is in charge?”  He asked as Magnus finally motioned for everyone to relax.   “Give me a moment…………” he murmured, tapping his audial to initiate a person-to-person communique with Cerebros.  “Cerebros, I’m going to go talk to the guys in charge.   You all chill until I find out the entire situation,” he said quietly to his friend and assistant.

            A short time later, he was in the Necrobot’s citadel………………..he saw some of the abandoned _Lost Light_ crew and dozens of others he was unfamiliar with milling about.   Ultra Magnus led him to a room near the back of the building, which had clearly been made into a conference room.   A large, circular table was set in the middle of the room, which had area enough for about 9-12 seats, depending on the size of the Cybertronian.   Currently 9 chairs were at the table, three more were pushed back against the wall.   Rodimus, Megatron and two people he didn’t recognize were sitting at the table with datapads in front of them………talking about Primus knew what.

            “I suppose this means I really don’t need to make a pathblaster out of your remains, Rodimus,” Fortress Maximus chuckled as Rodimus got up and greeted him with a warm handshake.   “Though……..I will admit, after what I’ve heard from my hitchhikers, I was almost hoping for the chance.”   He gave a brief synopsis of finding First Aid and the others fleeing from the _Lost Light_.

            Rodimus nodded.   “Old man, I’m going to go get the story from the others and check on them,” the younger Cybertronian said firmly.

            Before Megatron could even say a word to stop him, Rodimus had run out of the room.   He sighed and shook his head……..they’d have to wrap this up quickly because he was worried about what Rodimus was going to hear from First Aid.   He motioned to the seat Rodimus had vacated and asked Fortress Maximus to tell them more details, briefly introducing his first and second of the new security team—Roller and Roadfire.

 

*      *     *     *     *

 

            As Rodimus walked towards the entrance of the citadel, he grabbed Velocity—telling her First Aid was here.   He figured she would like to see him again.   But then Drift immediately invited himself along for the walk, because he felt he _might_ need to protect Rodimus.   The younger Cybertronian with that so-familiar red-and-yellow color scheme simply sighed, shrugged, and went along with such a silly assertion.   But _mostly_ he agreed to it because he wasn’t going to argue that Drift may have had a valid point.

            Velocity was cheerful, talking about the stuff she wanted to fill First Aid in on.  Drift’s aura was calm and lightly flowing around him.   So…………despite the anxiety he felt inside, Rodimus was calming down just a little bit as the three of them walked to Fortress Maximus’ ship.   But he _just knew_.   He _knew_ what First Aid was probably going to tell him…………and he _really_ didn’t want to hear it.

            “Welcome aboard, Rodimus,” Cerebros greeted as the three poked their heads in on the bridge area of the ship.

            Rodimus smiled…………..a very, _very_ honest smile, because for a moment he thought of the fast friendship he’d forged with the Cerebros of the alternative universe with his recent “spirit-hopping” adventure.   But his mind quickly focused back on the matter at hand.

            “I’m glad to see you.   Where’s your medical bay?”   Rodimus asked.

            “Opposite of the boarding entrance,” Cerebros answered, fidgeting because of the very nervous Riptide standing behind him.   “Are you going to say anything to this big guy…………he’s kinda making me nervous………?”  The brain surgeon said with a soft chuckle as he jerked a thumb at the tall Autobot behind him.

            “Nope, I don’t think I have _anything_ to say to Riptide,” Rodimus answered, pivoting on his heel and striding past Drift.   He motioned to Velocity and just kept walking without looking back.

            “ _Oh Primus!_    He really **_is_** mad at me………….” Riptide sobbed, covering his face with his hands.

            “He’s not angry _at you_ , specifically………but he saw you on the bridge with Getaway during the pronouncement,” Drift said, calmly and quietly.  “He believes you _supported_ the mutiny, but _all of his anger_ is focused on Getaway.”   Then the former Decepticon warrior turned to follow Rodimus.   When he caught up with them right in front of the medi-bay, he lightly grabbed Rodimus’ shoulder.   “Look, you know that Riptide just follows along with whomever is in charge,” Drift said, softly.

            “I’m not interested in shades of grey right now,” Rodimus sighed, glancing over his shoulder at Drift.   “I just want to know who else Getaway hurt……………..” he whispered.   Then Rodimus entered the small medical bay and was instantly blocked at the doorway by both Hot Spot and Groove.   Rodimus frowned, but placed his hands on his hips and incycled a very deep breath before shouting:  “ _How many_ , First Aid?   How many _paid the price_ for Getaway’s mutiny?!” 

            First Aid’s shoulders drooped as he incycled a breath and stood up to walk over to his former Captain.   The young medic pushed his two fellow Protectobots out of the way, and then he placed his hands to his sides and bowed deeply to Rodimus.

            “I think we were all blinded by his promise to get rid of Megatron,” First Aid explained.   “I wasn’t on board when the mutiny happened, but I _did_ know it was coming.   I _could_ have warned someone……….I could’ve even warned _you_ …………but I _didn’t_.”

            “ _How many lives were taken?_ ” Rodimus said, his voice low and dangerous.

            For the first time in his life, First Aid was actually **_scared_** of Rodimus.   “I think……not counting your group……….maybe about thirty I heard about,” he answered, quietly.

            First Aid was puzzled when Rodimus held up his hands—open, with fingers spread.   Then he began to list names— _full names_ , including origin of birth or construction—ticking a finger down as he said a name.   When he reached ten and his fists were closed, he still continued to list names until he reached twenty and his hands were open again.   As Rodimus named the names, First Aid’s memory sought the list of the remaining crew roster and its sudden absences.   When Rodimus had reached the count of thirty and the final name, Rodimus’ hands were closed into fists again, which angrily dropped to his sides—and the younger Cybertronian trembled slightly.

            First Aid was both humbled _and_ mortified…………. _Rodimus knew them all_.  He knew them **_all_** , including their full birth names.    He realized now that he _should’ve_ told Rodimus about things before he left.   He _shouldn’t_ have left it for the mutiny to happen.   Rodimus was clearly deeply wounded by the death list.   First Aid didn’t want to see that, he didn’t want to see the usually cheerful young Captain look like _this_ at all.   He was _ashamed_ of his part in what happened.

            “I thought you _didn’t_ look at that list because it was supposed to be the ones who voted against you,” Drift admonished, in his most soothing of voices.

            “ _Ratchet_ told me that I should, because there were more names than there should have been and his wasn’t one of them,” Rodimus responded, still seething with anger.  He slammed a fist into the wall closest to him and it rang for long seconds after the hit.   “More lives lost under my name.  _Dammit_ ,” he whispered, so soft that probably only Drift heard the actual words.   The red-and-yellow young mech spun on his heel and stormed out, leaving most a bit surprised.

            But Drift knew something was going to happen if he didn’t get after Rodimus _right now_.   He ran down the one he loved and lightly pushed him to the wall across from the entrance ramp’s doorway.   “Stop and calm down,” the former Decepticon warrior said quietly.   “I know how much this hurts—it’s reopening the wound that Getaway parted you all with.   But you need to calm down and _endure_ this……..we need to hear the _whole story_ ,” he continued.   He kept his aura steady and calm, to try and soothe Rodimus’ pain.

            “I give up, Drift,” Rodimus whispered, going limp against the warrior’s restraining arm.   “I _knew_ those lives were in danger and I _couldn’t even prevent it_ …………….”

            Drift let go of his friend and that’s when Rodimus suddenly made a run for it.   He transformed into his race car mode the moment he reached the entrance ramp and began to tear off across the rubble-strewn former battlefield.   The younger Cybertronian just spun and swerved around in figure-eight loops, his speed far too dangerous for racing about like that in a limited amount of space.    Drift knew that Rodimus was screaming and crying inside, letting the sound of his race engines make all the noises he couldn’t express aloud.

            Cerebros walked up to stand next to Drift at the top of the entrance ramp, just inside the ship.  “Max always told me that Rodimus was an emotional one, but I don’t think he really knows how to express his emotions _properly_ ,” the brain surgeon sighed.

            “He was fearing that Getaway had hurt others,” Drift sighed, softly.  “I don’t think he wanted to be proven right in his fears.”

            “From what First Aid and Riptide told us, Getaway had released Froid and Sunder from the cells—using them to enforce a _‘happy medium’_ of sorts on the ship,” Cerebros explained.

            “ _Sunder_?   The crazy mnemosurgeon who thinks he’s an avatar of Mortilus?!”  Drift groaned.  “He _cannibalizes_ Cybertronians………….ugh, I think I know where those lives went………….”

            “ _Eh?_    You weren’t there?”  Cerebros asked, tilting his head curiously.

            “No, I apparently missed _a lot_ of things,” Drift sighed.   He watched Rodimus tear about, leaving deep grooves in the ground and lots of dirt flying everywhere.   He was extremely worried for his _Amica Endura_ , because he knew that once Rodimus had gotten it all out there in a tantrum—he’d then _bury it so deep_ within himself and it would eat away at him _forever_.   He hoped Megatron had come to realize this…………the existence of the pit of pain and grief that was deep within Rodimus.

            In a few moments, Megatron came walking up with Fortress Maximus.   He saw Rodimus recklessly spinning about and walked over, planting his foot lightly on Rodimus’ hood.   The younger Cybertronian revved his back wheels, spinning them futilely as he was securely pinned by his partner.

            “ _Let me go!_    **_Let me go, old man!_** ”  Rodimus yelled, his voice full of pain.

            “Come now.   Transform into your primary mode and stop acting like a _child_ ,” Megatron sighed, putting a little more weight on his foot as he could feel Rodimus struggling to pull himself free.

            “ ** _I said to let me go, Megatron!!!_** ”  Rodimus screamed, spinning all four wheels and fishtailing wildly with his front end securely pinned by the one he loved.

            All of the sudden, Megatron did something unexpected that had Drift grabbing for the grips of the swords at his sides, ready to leap in and save Rodimus.   The former Decepticon Leader knelt briefly to reach down for Rodimus’ front bumper.   He took a firm hold and then flipped Rodimus over so that the spinning wheels were facing the sky.

            “ _Now._    Will you settle down so we can talk like adults?   Because the way you look right now resembles one of those silly Earth turtles that got flipped onto its shell,” Megatron sighed.   Then he gave a light chuckle as he said the latter part of his statement.

            Drift _forcibly_ drew in a deep incycle of breath, dragging his hands away from his swords.   Deep inside of him, he knew Megatron would _never_ hurt the one they both loved, but all of his instincts were still screaming at him to leap to Rodimus’ defense.

            “Drift!   Round up everyone and bring them to the main plaza!”   Megatron called, looking up at the old warrior.   Then he sat down on the ground next to Rodimus……….who had finally transformed into his primary mode and was just lying on his back, staring at the sky.  “You’re all dusty and dirty now,” he murmured to Rodimus, reaching over to brush his beloved partner’s faceplace.

            “ _Thirty lives_ …………….thirty more lives gone on my watch,” Rodimus said in a very sad voice, staring at the sky and not even looking at Megatron.

            “It _wasn’t_ your fault, Rodimus…………..you _couldn’t_ help them.  _Getaway_ took their lives,” Megatron responded softly, rubbing Rodimus’ dusty chest.

            Rodimus put a hand over Megatron’s.   “They came with me, they were _my responsibility_ ,” he said in a hollow, empty voice.   He still never looked at Megatron, not even once.

 

*       *       *       *       *

 

            In the area designated as the “main plaza”—which appeared to be where a building had been razed and was in the midst of some small bit of construction—Fortress Maximus looked around at everyone who was there.   Even after hearing the story of how the Necrobot had time-travelled to “steal” missing people from history, he was just surprised at how many Autobots _and_ Decepticons there were.   And he had been assured that Censerre had never even had the chance to finish his work.

            Of course there was some mingling together of those who had chosen a certain brand……and a few who chose to remain adamantly separate.    But Max noted that neither Rodimus, nor Drift, were there—were they off somewhere _together_ , then?   That seemed strange to the law officer, as he knew that Rodimus was now bonded with Megatron.   It was probably some oddly allowed thing………Max had no idea the dynamics on the ship since he left—and after hearing about what Getaway did.    But knowing that Rodimus seemed to be the type who actually preferred _one single relationship_ at a time, he figured whatever was between Drift and Rodimus had a line drawn at **_friendship_** —and likely Megatron trusted Drift to take care of Rodimus in the times he could not.   Such as _now_ …….

            “ ** _Everyone_** ,” Megatron began, loudly.  He made sure to project his deep voice so that all could hear him.   The co-captain of the _Lost Light_ held up his hands in a peaceable gesture to get the crowd’s attention.   “I would have preferred to have had Rodimus speak to you all, but right now he’s _sparkbroken_ on the news we received from our stolen ship, the _Lost Light_ ,” the former Decepticon continued, calmly.    “It seems that, besides abandoning us here—the one who formed the mutiny on our ship took the lives of about thirty others in order to solidify his command.”

            A wave of gasps and murmurs rushed through the crowd as people looked at one another and began discussing the implications of this.

            “ _However_ , Rodimus’ promise still stands—when we get the _Lost Light_ back, we will take **_any_** of you wherever you wish to go, to reward your patience with us,” Megatron continued on, letting the voices die down before he started speaking again.   “But, at the moment, I would like to make a request of about fifteen volunteers for our assault on our ship.   If you’re _spoiling for a fight_ , this is a good time to join in!”

            Someone in the crowd raised a hand to speak.   They had the body frame of a racer, with the colors of yellow-and-blue primarily.   Megatron pointed at them and motioned for them to speak.

            “Slapdash, sir,” he responded as he pulled his hand down.   “Are you still planning on founding habitation blocks here?”  He inquired.

            “Yes,” Megatron answered with a gentle smile.   “We are still planning to make this planet a base-post.  So, anyone who is still planning on a _fresh start_ here, you are _most welcome to stay_ ,” he added, nodding at the crowd in general.   “To answer _that_ question further, we have been salvaging what was left behind by the renegade Decepticons who attacked here and evaluating the form and condition of the planet.   I believe we shall be able to start on a habitation block _very soon_.   They’re still conducting the land survey and preserving as much of Censerre’s topiary grandeur as possible.”

            Then a few more hands in the crowd shot up.  Megatron noted the order and numbered them off out loud before allowing the first one to answer the question.

            “How much lethal force can I use, if I go to fight?”  A Decepticon named Fangry chuckled.

            “We would prefer it to be _non-lethal_ , but you are welcome to make them _hurt_ and be _very unconscious_ , Fangry,” Megatron chuckled.    Fangry was like the Decepticon version of Whirl, with a similar slight mental imbalance and odd kind of cunning, as well as lots of energy and enthusiasm to fight things.   Megatron called for the second person to speak.

            “I’m Landfill, sir…………..I can recruit others to start building once you all give the go-ahead.   I helped build hab blocks in Dekahex ages back,” an Autobot, whose alt mode looked very much like it involved heavy construction, asked.

            “Ah, _those_ were nicely done!   I will ask you to speak with Ultra Magnus when we’re done here,” Megatron responded, then pointed to the third one.

            “Why are you going out of your way for this _one particular ship_?”  The smaller Autobot grumbled.  “It sounds like you’re motivated by a grudge or something.”

            “I will admit only a _small_ amount of truth to that,” Megatron relented.   He and Ultra Magnus had been _trying_ to convince Rodimus of the same thing.   They had pleaded with Rodimus to just let them get a new ship.   However Rodimus seemed very emotionally attached to the _Lost Light_ ………and he would never tell Megatron _why_.   He’d only pout and say he wanted **_his_** ship back.  “However, I think now that we’ve heard that Getaway has killed members of the crew, I don’t believe we can allow that to stand.   He must face justice and a trial for what he’s done,” Megatron answered, then paused for a moment before continuing.  “The ship was also purchased and paid for in Rodimus’ name, so it belongs to him—charges of theft fall atop the obvious charges of mutiny and murder in this instance.”

            “I can understand that, but it still seems like a waste of time and effort,” the Autobot who did not introduce himself complained.   Then they turned and walked away.

            Megatron nodded and focused back on the task at hand.   He dismissed everyone saying that he would like volunteers to come and see him right now.

            The plan was pretty simple……..twenty Cybertronians, plus the pilot (who would be Fortress Maximus, as it was his ship), would speed to Cybertron.  The fifteen volunteers (who were a mix of Censerre’s rescues and some of the _Lost Light_ crew)………..plus Rodimus, Megatron, Drift, Ultra Magnus and Roller.   They’d beg, buy or even resort to _stealing_ (temporarily) a larger ship with some sort of combat capabilities—then they’d set off in pursuit of the _Lost Light_.   As Rodimus had a copy of the map on him, _literally_ , they would just try to predict where Getaway would be by now.   Cerebros would remain behind on Censerre’s world until Fortress Maximus had dropped the group off back on Cybertron and come back for him.

            So in a few hours, the twenty plus one, had crowded onto Fortress Maximus’ speedster.   It would only take an hour, at the ship’s top speed.    It was quiet, yet chatty………….cramped, but secure.   Originally only Megatron and Rodimus were going to remain on the bridge with Fortress Maximus………..however Drift was still worried and insisted on being near Rodimus ( _just in case_ ) and Ultra Magnus wanted to be there in case he was needed for something _important_ —which made the bridge far too crowded.   Thankfully, most of the others had chosen to hang out in the medi-bay or the two small hab suites…….or even just sitting in the hallway, chatting.

            When Max gauged they were about twenty minutes out from Cybertron, he called to ask where he could land his ship.

            “You _can’t_ — ** _not today_** , at any rate,” the voice manning the communications room answered.   The Cybertronian sounded really bored.   “ _Everyone’s_ at the ceremony and Starscream’s closed all the landing ports and the space bridge.  _Absolutely no visitors_ until the ceremony is over!”

            “ _Ceremony_?”  Rodimus murmured, glancing up at Megatron.   “Something _important_ we’re not invited to?”

            “I am _never_ invited anywhere fun…………and we _are_ supposedly dead,” Megatron chuckled in response, lightly patting Rodimus on the back—a little lower than usual due to the crowded conditions.   He could practically feel Drift’s glare on him for the intimate gesture.

            Suddenly, Fortress Maximus’ ship jolted and bounced, as if it had encountered turbulence—which is non-existent in space!

            “ _Cybertron!_    You’re about to get some sort of company—they passed us in a blur and they’ll be in your skies in seconds!”  Max shouted into the intercom.  “Hang on everyone!”  He called into the ship’s own announcement system.  “I’m pushing the ship past normal safety protocols to get us there faster!”

            “That felt…………….. _dark_ ,” Rodimus murmured, moving closer to Megatron.   “So…….. ** _dark_** …………” he whispered, shivering.

            Megatron couldn’t feel anything at all like that, but he wrapped his arms tightly around his sparkmate.  Rodimus had always seemed to have an odd extra-sensory kind of perception—his ability to anticipate things was beyond incredible.    Whatever had just passed Fortress Maximus’ ship was _hostile_ and headed straight for Cybertron!

            “Coming in **_hot_**!  There’s _definitely_ a fight going on down there!”  Max snapped over his ship’s systems.  “It’s a lone warrior against _all_ of Cybertron’s security and whomever else can fight down there!”

            Rodimus focused and pulled away from Megatron, pushing past Drift and Ultra Magnus to get into the hallway.  “ _Going in!_    All who **_want_** to fight— _follow me_!”  The red-and-yellow mech shouted at the loudest range of his vocals.

            Everyone followed Rodimus in jumping out of the ship—except Megatron, who then sat next to Fortress Maximus in his pilot’s seat.

            “You _really are_ trying to keep true to your vow of pacifism, aren’t you?”  Max asked, curiously, looking over at the former Decepticon Leader.

            “I have to, especially after I nearly lost it fighting Glitch—Tarn,” Megatron sighed softly.  “I dare not go into battle anymore.   That demon is _still_ inside of me…………I killed the ones calling themselves the _‘Decepticon Justice Division’_.   It’s………….it’s not buried deep enough,” Megatron was scanning the monitors, keeping an eye on the battle.   Suddenly something captured his attention on one of the monitors and his jaw clenched.  Megatron reached up to touch the side of his helm to activate his comm-link with Rodimus.   **[That’s _Galvatron_ —but something’s wrong, he looks………… _primal_ …………….]**  He snapped to Rodimus.

            **[Yeah, I thought so, too!]**   Rodimus responded.   There were some background grunts and strikes…….so Megatron knew Rodimus was fighting hard.  **[By the way…… _this ceremony_?  Starscream and Windblade.]**

            Megatron did something of a double-take and then laughed heartily.   A part of him felt very happy for his former Lieutenant.   However, Megatron’s look and laugh got him an odd glance from Fortress Maximus, who was busy landing the ship.

            “It’s a _Conjunx Endura_ ceremony,” Megatron said, with a smile over at the law officer.

            “Well……….why not?”  Max laughed, warmly.  “They’ve been at each other for years, now—you can’t have a good partnership without some sparks,” he added, getting up from the console and walking to the weapons’ locker.   He carefully evaluated the many different kinds of guns in there and chose one Cybertronian repeater-rifle and a Galactic Council bazooka (so very contraband!), slamming the door and rushing out to join the fight.

            Megatron carefully locked down the ship and attended the monitors, to keep an eye on the battle.  To _warn_ his allies if he needed to.  Megatron couldn’t—he _SHOULDN’T_ —set foot on the planet until the fight was over.   The former Decepticon Leader was not going to push his seemingly tenuous self-control…..as well as the fact that he knew that he was absolutely unwelcome on Cybertron.    So, for now, Megatron would wait until things were calmer and he could be “tolerated”.

 

*       *      *      *      *

 

            Rodimus and Drift were fighting seamlessly _together_ against Galvatron.   As if they had _never been parted_ for any amount of time and they had practiced together every single day with combat dance for all of their lives.   Drift swept and twirled with his twin blades, Galvatron blocked most of the strikes with his cannon-arm.   Rodimus kept low, to let Drift sweep his swords high, swinging his legs to try and sweep Galvatron…...but at best he was only able to keep the old gladiator off balance.   Rodimus also tried taunting Galvatron, but the old gladiator would not speak—he only seemed _very focused_ on getting at Starscream and Windblade.

            “Usually he would’ve snapped at me to shut up and fight with my all, by now,” Rodimus said to his _Amica_.   When the younger Cybertronian glanced at Drift, he’d found the former Decepticon warrior had finally drawn his Greatsword.   “Not sure if that’ll even do damage to him…………..whoever’s driving inside his head, it’s _NOT_ Galvatron!”   Rodimus snapped.

            “Move back,” Optimus Prime ordered, striding past the two _Amica Endura_ to go hand-to-hand with Galvatron.   “You are nothing more than a dead ‘bot walking………..and I can sense great darkness within you!”  The old war hero snapped, tackling the old gladiator and slamming him down onto the stage.

            A frustrated look crossed Starscream’s faceplate as he scooted back from the action and also actually tried to stand a little protectively in front of Windblade.  “Speaking of the _dead_ ……….your group looks rather healthy for having been killed by Tarn and his merry little band,” the ruler of Cybertron said, dry humour in his voice.

            Rodimus, with one optic on the struggle between Galvatron and Optimus Prime, moved towards the two co-leaders of Cybertron—taking a defensive stance.  Drift joined him, full attention on the combat situation.

            “It’s a _long story_ , like everything else in my life,” Rodimus sighed, glancing back at the two.  And he smiled happily and genuinely at Windblade and Starscream.  “By the way, _congrats_ ……..your ceremony was way bigger than **_mine_**!”  He chuckled.

            “You and Drift?   Oh, that’s _adorable_ ,” Windblade said warmly, smiling at them.

            But Starscream face-palmed himself.  He knew what had been happening on the _Lost Light_ for most of the time since around the time that Megatron joined them………….and he knew it was _NOT_ Drift that Rodimus was referring to.  “You seriously _did **not**_ ,” the old Seeker groaned.   Then he saw the smile on Rodimus’ faceplate and groaned again.   “Good lord, _you **did**_.  _The **two** of you._   **_Together._**   _Tch_ ………..where is he?   Did Tarn kill him?”   Starscream asked, looking around for Megatron.

            “I would not be here if he were dead,” Rodimus sighed, softly.   “It really **_is_** a long story, though……but the old man’s back on the ship, waiting for the battle to end.  His pacifism and all,” he added, shrugging.

            “Is he _really serious_ about the pacifism?”   Starscream laughed.  “I just _can’t_ believe it!”

            “Who are we talking about?”  Windblade asked, very puzzled.

            “ _Megatron_ ,” all three of them said at the same time.  There was a different tone in each of their voices.   Rodimus’ tone was spoken with love, of course.  Drift’s tone was more like a neutral verbal shrug.  Starscream’s tone indicated actual annoyance.

            All of the sudden, Galvatron ripped himself away from combat with Optimus Prime.   He slid back, boots making a thick skid mark on the stage.   The old gladiator turned his head towards the group and stared directly at _Rodimus_.   Though the tempered glass coverings over the optics were red, the glow deep within in them was a terrifying black.   Galvatron looked at Rodimus for a very long moment before the old gladiator leapt into the air and flew off at that same impossible speed that had passed Fortress Maximus’ ship.

            “ _Hnnnngh_ ,” Drift growled, jaw clenching with frustration.   “I seriously _do not_ like the look he gave you, Rodimus,” the old warrior muttered, reaching back to sheathe the Greatsword in the scabbard on his back.

            Optimus Prime approached the four, shaking his head with annoyance.  “I feel we should postpone your ceremony until _this_ is dealt with.  I do not like what it implies,” the former Autobot Leader murmured.   “The darkness around him was _chaotic_ and that only can be one thing…………” he trailed off.

            “Well, _shall_ we postpone this, my dear?” Starscream inquired, turning to his sparkmate and holding an arm out towards her.

            “For _now_ ,” the young Cityspeaker sighed in response, taking the offered arm.  The two walked off the stage together, immediately flanked by the Combaticons.   They were going to go directly to the council chambers.

            “ _Hey!_   What about the old man?!”  Rodimus called loudly after them, annoyed with himself that he almost forgot to ask permission for Megatron to set foot on Cybertron.

            “Straight to the council chambers and _nowhere else_!”  Starscream called back, raising his free hand and waving it in a dismissive manner.

            Rodimus let out a soft sigh and then glanced up at Optimus Prime for a moment.  “A friend of yours is travelling with us, now……..I think he’d really like to see you again,” Rodimus said with a soft little smile.   He was uncomfortable being around his former mentor and hero, given the things that had gone between them since the trip to the Dead Universe……..so he almost instantly turned to jog off after saying what he needed to say.

            Drift knew that his _Amica_ was feeling uncomfortable and then jogged off to catch up with Rodimus as they headed back towards Fortress Maximus’ ship.   Rodimus used the comm-link system to send a message to everyone who’d come along—just telling them to relax until they could petition the council for a ship.   When Rodimus and Drift were almost back to Max’s ship, they slowed their pace to walking and then slowly strode up the ramp.   Fortress Maximus was waiting at the top of the ramp, with Megatron standing barely behind him—just out of sight.

            “You okay, old man?”  Rodimus asked, hugging Megatron and looking up into his sparkmate’s red optics.

            “Something worries me greatly about the way Galvatron was acting,” Megatron murmured.   He lovingly returned Rodimus’ embrace and rested his chin on the top of his partner’s head.  “He’s a warrior and willing to fight, but he is _not_ foolish enough to take a whole planet’s population on alone.”

            “I know.   But it _didn’t_ look like Galvatron was in control of himself,” Rodimus sighed, pulling away.  “You and I can go on to the council chambers—but _only there_.   Drift, Max………..you guys go do whatever you want to do until we find out what the next move is,” the younger Cybertronian added.

            “All right, but call me if you need me for _any_ reason,” Drift answered with a sigh.

 

*       *      *       *      *

 

            “I can only conclude that it _must_ be Unicron,” Optimus Prime said, standing in the center of the room, surrounded by the council members and their guests.  “What we _do_ know is that when Colton and his allies invaded Cybertron, beyond the many other things that happened, a strange amount of Energon was beamed into deep space and made contact with something out there.”

            Megatron listened and frowned.   The fleshlings of Earth invaded Cybertron?   _Wonderful._    Just because he did what he did with Rodimus, using the avatars, it _did not_ mean he loved fleshlings any more than he originally had.   In fact, through his regular sessions with Rung……..they had concluded that Megatron chose using the avatars to interface with Rodimus was because he was using a mask—a mask that let him forget everything that was labeled “Megatron”, a name that contained everything he had always been known as:  miner, gladiator, warlord and dictator—the avatars allowed him to be the person he truly _wanted_ to be, the person who _loved_ Rodimus.  He used the avatar interface to prove to Rodimus he would do _anything_ to love and treasure his younger partner.

            “Your theory is noted, but we have absolutely no proof that the Energon was beamed to a legendary _God of Chaos_ ,” Starscream sighed, steepling his hands before him.   Then he glanced over at Windblade next to him with a look of query.

            “Metroplex and I have tried to confirm it, but we cannot be certain,” the young Cityspeaker responded, shaking her head slightly.

            “We _need_ to refill the Matrix,” Optimus said, holding up the crystalline sphere he had.

            Rodimus looked puzzled.   “The Matrix has regenerated?”  He asked, noting it was a perfect sphere once again.

            “Not entirely, Vector Sigma recrafted the photonic crystal,” the old Autobot hero responded.

            Starscream groaned and felt like banging his head on the table.   He _should have known_ Optimus Prime would do whatever the hell he wanted without asking the council first.   Windblade gently patted her sparkmate’s shoulder and then stood up to address everyone.   “Clearly this deed has been done and you rarely accept reprimands, Optimus Prime………so please tell us, how _do_ we refill the Matrix?”  Windblade asked, gazing over at the Prime.

            “Vector Sigma told me that _only a **lifebearer**_ can refill the Matrix,” Optimus responded, shaking his head lightly.  “Though the Master Programmer did not quite explain to me what a _lifebearer_ is…………..” he trailed off, looking around at the tensed council members.

            “Honestly?”  Elita One laughed, looking around at everyone.  The First of Carcer stood up and everyone gazed at her with interest, but also with a bit of puzzlement.   Elita walked the length of the room, speaking to all as she did so.  “A lifebearer is a _special_ Cybertronian.  One that I, personally, would gladly have razed a planet to acquire.   They _inspire_ life………..and around them, people feel contentment and comfort.”   The First stopped directly behind Rodimus and dropped her hands onto his shoulders.   Rodimus gave a jump and startled gasp.   “ _This_ one is a lifebearer,” she said, simply.

            “Wait……..?   _What?!_ ”   Rodimus gasped.

            “I am curious.  Please tell us more about what a lifebearer is…….?”  Megatron, asked curiously, looking up at Elita One.   Megatron could not deny that Rodimus had a special skill to inspire others.

            “They can ignite long dormant hotspots,” Elita One said, raising one of her hands from Rodimus’ shoulders and holding up a finger.   “They have a sensitivity to life…………and a tendency to rush in, to care for and protect it,” she continued, raising another finger.  “And they tend to form deep attachments to others.  Once they become close to someone, the bond is felt so deep that it hurts like hell when that attachment is torn or sundered,” she added, raising a third finger.

            “That is _definitely_ you,” Megatron murmured to his sparkmate, reaching for Rodimus’ hand.

            “I……… _I didn’t_ ………….it _wasn’t me_ that ignited that hotspot…………..” Rodimus whispered in protest.   He was very embarrassed, because he recognized every single one of those signs as things that applied to him.

            “ _You_ ignited a hotspot?   _Where?_ ”  Optimus Prime inquired, turning towards Rodimus.

            “I do believe he tried to tell you once and you _shut him out_ ,” Megatron snapped, rising instantly to his partner’s defense, as well as to his feet.   “But he was _never_ important to you.  Over all the years of the war, no one was ever able to speak to you as an equal, except for your little cadre of friends.   Any other Autobot’s words were unimportant to _Optimus Prime_!”

            “No, this is _getting good_ ,” Starscream murmured, glancing off to his left—the side opposite from where Windblade was sitting.   He was listening to something his apparition of Bumblebee was saying.   “Megatron’s passion has _always_ been focused and single-minded.  And right now he’s furious on behalf of his _sparkmate_ ……what better drama could one ask for?”

            Windblade glanced at him, curiously.   “I hoped you’d stop talking to your imaginary friend once you had _me_ ,” she whispered, softly, placing her hand on Starscream’s arm.

            “Pfft……..you want me to lose my _good conscience_?”  Starscream laughed warmly, reassuring her with a gentle pat on her hand.   Then Starscream stood up and held his hands up, to mollify everyone, and glanced at Megatron.   “Your concerns are duly noted, Megatron, now _please_ be seated.   Optimus, if you had _ever bothered_ to read any of Ultra Magnus or Rodimus’ reports from the _Lost Light —_then you would be as well-informed as we **_all_** are.   Because _that_ is how Elita One knows of the Luna I incident.   Although Rodimus glossed over the information on the hotspot, I read _Ratchet’s_ report after Perceptor force-fried the young Captain’s systems on Tyrest’s machine.”

            “That’s because Rodimus _refuses_ to believe he ignited the hotpspot………he edited **_all_** the reports,” Megatron snapped, still very angry.

            “I know that, I just told you I read _Ratchet’s_ report,” Starscream responded, hushing Megatron with a flick of his hand.   He inwardly celebrated the fact that he was able to do that to Megatron for the first time ever.   “I was a _science officer_ , I am perfectly capable of reading a medical report.  In short, the report said that the very moment Rodimus set foot on Luna I’s surface, the hotspot ignited.   He suffered a swift increase in Spark and fuel temperatures, which made him woozy for several moments,” the co-leader of Cybertron continued.   “When Perceptor attached Rodimus to Tyrest’s machine, it was with the premise of using the code written in the half of the Matrix that Rodimus was carrying.   But according to Ratchet’s notes, they were actually using the _hardwritten code_ inside of Rodimus’ own body, because of the Matrix having bonded physically to him once.  But they told Rodimus they were using the Matrix, to try and allay his inborn fear of a horrific death.   This was why _only_ Rodimus could be connected to Tyrest’s machine to restore things.   However, the feedback from Tyrest’s machine caused some internal damage to Rodimus and interfered with the life he’d ignited at the hotspot………..sending all those Sparks back into dormancy.”

            “I………see,” Optimus responded, his tone muted as he was mollified.

            “May I ask a question?” Marissa Faireborn, the representative of Earth, inquired.   Throughout most of this, she had held her tongue, but she realized she would likely need to be more informed about a few things on Cybertronian history and maybe even physiology…….…….and maybe even _biology?_..................to be able to understand them.

            “Yes?”  Starscream responded, nodding at her.   Although he had been frustrated at Earth’s forced annexation, he had at least been pleased that the Earth Representative tried very hard to keep up on things.  He would give the human female extra points for courage and fortitude.

            “You said that this _‘Matrix’_ , which Optimus Prime carries—had once been _merged_ with Rodimus, here,” she began.  “So…………..why is Rodimus **_not_** considered a _‘Prime’_ , then?   Because, as I understand it, carrying that thing makes you a _‘Prime’_ , doesn’t it?”   Marissa asked, curiously.

            Starscream had to try very hard not to laugh.   It was not the Earthling’s fault, however, she knew nothing of the other Primes who had faked their way to the title.   Windblade noticed her partner’s expression and subtly slapped him in the back of the neck.

            “Technically, it _does_.   And in all honesty, Rodimus has truly shown all the signs of affinity, as well,” Starscream began, seriously.   “However, we don’t have the Matrix to tell us if he’s chosen or not—it’s been empty since Optimus used it against Galvatron and the Heart of Darkness.”

            “ _Hmmmm_.   I suppose I need someone to get me a Cybertronian history book,” Marissa sighed.   “Then may I ask about this Unicron, figure?   Why would the Matrix need to be _‘refilled’_ to stop him?   And what does it need to be _‘filled’_ with?”  The human woman asked.

            “Well, how you view Unicron depends on how you view mythology or religion—I happen to be rather atheist, by the way—then just as Primus is our God of order and life, Unicron is the God of chaos and obliteration.  Not just mere death, mind you, but absolute extinction,” Starscream explained, simply.  “But perhaps you should ask me for more details later……..being atheist to any of our existing religions, I can factually talk about them without gushing on about Primus or the Guiding Hand,” he laughed.  Which had earned him another smack from Windblade.

            “The _Matrix of Leadership_ holds Primus’ power, along with the accrued knowledge of all who held it after him,” Optimus Prime explained, answering the other part of Marissa’s question.  “Only it can stop the darkness of Unicron.”

            “Forgive me for one more question that will quite possibly offend most of the room,” the human woman began.  “If your _God of Chaos_ has a physical form……….then what about your _God of Order’s_ physical form?”   She asked, looking around at everyone in the room.

            “It would depend on the text and the branch of the religion, but basically once Primus had deemed his time up—he divided himself into five Avatars, the Guiding Hand,” Rodimus responded to her, smiling at the human warmly.   He was actually fond of Earth human society and had far more tolerance of general organic life than Megatron did.   “The Guiding Hand may or may not still be around…………they _may_ even be in Cybertopia with the Knights of Cybertron my crew are searching for.”

            “I see,” Marissa murmured.   She had many more questions, but to delve into another culture’s religions in an already tense room would likely be pushing things too far right now.   “I think I understand that Sparks are what become your people’s _protoforms_ —which I am familiar with right now, because of Trypticon.   But can you explain the term _‘hotspot’_ to me?”  She asked, deviating away from religion and going to biology.

            “A hotspot is a traditional _Cybertronian birthfield_ on the ground, literally.   Where our Sparks ignite……..and after a time may be harvested from the ground to attain their protoforms.  Sparks are our _very cores_ and the _sentio metallico_ around the Spark will become the basic skeleton of our forms and our spark-casing,” Elita One began.  “On Cybertron, hotspots formed when Vector Sigma sent out pulsewaves across the surface of Cybertron………over time, the pulsewaves stopped and no more hotspots formed.   Some colonies had things called _‘sparknests’_ —small hotspots—which were planted on our new home soils and many sparknests flourished and adapted well.   The large hotspot on Luna I was the first recorded one in millions of years, until colonists planted a sparknest in the Badlands that fired up a new hotspot—the one that Trypticon protected.”   Elita One incycled a deep breath and looked about to continue when Starscream shot to his feet and held up his hands peaceably.

            “Please, Elita……..let’s not confuse her further right now,” Starscream said, very softly.  He knew the First One of Carcer was about to bring up “constructed cold” and the corruption of “pure birth”.

            Marissa looked between the two leaders and realized something was being held back.  However, something in the tone of Starscream’s voice made her realize that what it was had to be very painful for all Cybertronians, based on how silent the room got.   For Starscream to show pain in his voice told the human representative it had to be personally painful to him.   And for as long as she’d been here—Starscream never showed pain very easily to anyone.

            “I suppose any other questions I have will be answered on the fly,” the human woman responded, sitting back down.   “About your wedding, though………..will you two still be having the public ceremony?”  Marissa asked, she had been very curious to see the Cybertronian bonding ceremony and compare it to the ones on Earth.

            “We will, as soon as we’ve dealt with this situation,” Windblade answered with a reassuring smile at their human ally.   Though she and Starscream had already had a private ceremony—the public ceremony was more for display and show to the colonies.   But they would still have it, as the show it was—to unite the happiness and will of the colonies.   “Well now, I suppose the only question left to be asked is……….Rodimus, would you be willing to go into the primal chamber of Vector Sigma and refill the Matrix?   We can ask for this in trade for the ship you are requesting……?”  She said, looking over at Rodimus and Megatron.

            “Because I wish to find out this mystery behind Galvatron and why he was targeting us, I second the request made by Windblade,” Starscream added, reaching for his sparkmate’s hand.   “Will you assist us, in return for a ship?  As an added bonus, we can give you the last known coordinate pings we’ve received from the _Lost Light_.   Although they are keeping communications silence, we did catch a short outgoing message recently,” the old Seeker said, also glancing at Rodimus and Megatron.   “Don’t give me _that look_ , Megatron…..that ship was _supposed_ to be your prison and I prefer **_not_** to let you out of my metaphorical sight.”

            “I’ll help,” Rodimus murmured.  “I doubt I can really do all that much, but it won’t hurt to try…………” he sighed, focusing on doing this so he can get a ship and go after Getaway.

 

*       *       *       *       *

 

            **{Lifebearer, you are hurting terribly,}** Vector Sigma’s gentle voice said into Rodimus’ mind.

            “Sorry, I……….I just don’t know anything anymore,” Rodimus responded.   He looked up at the glowing orb.   This orb was supposedly all that was left after Primus became the Guiding Hand.   Some texts called it Primus, but the orb referred to itself as Vector Sigma—and was sometimes also called “The Master Programmer”.   “The one………….the one who _stole_ my ship.   He………….he _killed_ innocent people.  People I _should’ve_ been there to protect……………..”

            Rodimus felt a deep and dark ache in his core.  His Spark flared with doubt and self-loathing.

            **{Ahhhh……this is the nature of a lifebearer.   But you have become _so much more_ than just a lifebearer anymore.   Be aware that your pain can cause pain to all those around you,}** Vector Sigma cautioned, its presence in the room just so warm and soothing.

            Rodimus reveled in that warmth.   Right now he felt _cherished_ —just like when Megatron would hold him in the quiet moments they had together.   Maybe that was why his pain felt so much sharper right now, because he didn’t believe he was important enough to be cherished like this………….not to be loved or cherished by anyone at all.   Even though he loved Megatron with his very core, he also felt he _did not deserve_ to be loved in return by Megatron—he felt **_so undeserving_** of any warmth and love.

            **{Lifebearer,}** Vector Sigma whispered into Rodimus’ mind.  **{Do you wish to refill this orb of knowledge?}**

            “Me?   I _guess_ I do………….everyone else is just expecting me to do it anyways,” Rodimus sighed.

            **{You understand that you came into contact with an Avatar of the Chaos God’s.  You know in your Spark that the dark one is coming,}** the ancient programmer responded.  **{You can _feel_ it.   However, may I give you words of caution?}  ** It asked.

            Rodimus looked up at the shining orb in surprise.  It was…………. _asking_ him?   The young red-and-yellow mech realized that he wasn’t really being _forced_ to do this.  It really _was_ his choice.   Rodimus incycled a deep breath and decided that he should _finally choose_ , so that he can get his other business done and not mope around like an angry child.

            “Yeah, go ahead,” Rodimus said softly, holding the photonic crystal up to Vector Sigma.

            **{Be warned, your anger can _unbalance_ you,}** Vector Sigma responded.  **{Be careful with your anger, _do not_ let it overtake your compassion.}**

            “All right, I’ll try my best,” Rodimus said.   He shuttered his optics as Vector Sigma’s glow became brighter.   Time seemed to go at a strange, unnatural pace……….slowly and quickly at the very same time.   The younger Cybertronian found himself in something of a daze as he eventually stumbled out of the primal chamber.   Optimus Prime immediately took the Matrix, but Megatron scooped his sparkmate up into his arms before Rodimus collapsed.

            **{Megatron of Tarn………..guardian of the lifebearer,}** Vector Sigma’s voice said into the former Decepticon Leader’s mind.

            Megatron glanced around, puzzled, then he saw that the primal chamber was still open a slight bit.  The Master Programmer’s light looked like a thin, rippling ribbon through the crack.

            “Yes, Vector Sigma?”  Megatron inquired, staring at the ribbon of light.   Optimus Prime tilted his head curiously while the former miner and gladiator focused on that light.

            **{Your sparkmate is hurting _very deeply_ , but there is a pool of anger deep within him.  Anger and hate can _poison_ lifebearers, please watch over him so that he does not fall into the darkness,}** the Master Programmer explained.   **{If he _falls_ ………….you may never be able to get him back.}**

            “I will watch over him every moment that I can,” Megatron said, softly.   However, Vector Sigma’s words worried him.   He would try hard, but there would probably be times when Megatron would not be standing next to Rodimus, to stop him.  Then the door to the primal chamber snapped closed and the ribbon of light was gone.   Megatron sighed and turned to Optimus Prime.  “I hope that I do not regret him doing this for you, Optimus.   If I lose him, then I can guarantee that you’ve all lost me………….he’s my tether to keep continuing on this path.   If I lose Rodimus, I will run and hide………….and you will _never_ see me ever again.”

            “I doubt you could hide forever, Megatron,” Optimus said, seriously.

            “There are many things you’ve never known about me, Optimus,” Megatron murmured, dipping his head to lightly bump it against Rodimus’ head on his shoulders.  “I know this young one will never admit it, but Rodimus has been a _guiding light_ for so many.   He is **_my_** guiding light, as well.”   Megatron felt roiling emotions deep inside of him.  “If Rodimus’ light disappears from the universe, I will be forever lost in the darkness,” Megatron whispered, softly.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            When Rodimus woke up, he saw he was in unfamiliar surroundings.   It looked like it was quite possibly a medi-bay, but it was smaller than a city’s medi-bay.  Was he still on Cybertron, in Metroplex?   There was a thermal pad underneath him, so the medical recharge slab felt almost plush and cushy.

            “Ah, you’re _finally_ awake,” a very familiar voice said.  “Megatron asked me to keep watch on you while he helps pilot the ship.   How do you _feel_?”  Drift asked as Rodimus turned his head to him.

            “I feel…………kinda _weak_ ,” Rodimus murmured, trying to sit up on the plush slab and failing.  “Is this the ship we got?”  He asked, head moving back and forth on the pillow to take in the surroundings.

            “Yeah, it’s actually a really nice little ship—I think we should give it a _good name_ ,” Drift chuckled.   He walked over to the slab and helped Rodimus to sit up, changing the direction of the pillow to prop Rodimus up against the headboard of the medical slab.   “It’s a fast, military-grade, chaser—so it can easily fit about thirty to fifty crew aboard.”

            Drift gently tilted Rodimus’ head back, exposing the cords in his neckline, and stared intently down into his _Amica’s_ blue optics.   Megatron had shared Vector Sigma’s warnings with Drift, as he knew the former Decepticon warrior loved Rodimus all the same as himself.   He hoped that Drift could watch Rodimus in the times he could not.   As Drift stared down into his optics, Rodimus began to feel a bit nervous and anxious under the intense stare.   Rodimus didn’t know what Drift was looking at or looking for by staring into his optics like that…………….

            Suddenly Drift sighed and pulled away.  “Rodimus, I think you should remain on the ship and _not fight_ —I will even stay with you,” the swordsmech said, softly.

            “ _What?_    **_Come on!_**   You know I _have_ to give Getaway a piece of my mind!”  Rodimus cried, drawing up his legs and pouting.

            “Please……….I _don’t_ want you to go into battle,” Drift whispered, desperation in his light and even voice.   “Not in your condition.  You need to rest.”

            “ _Primus!_    Why are you being so silly and secretive, **_now_** , of all times!?”  The red-and-yellow Autobot moaned.  “You’re acting _so weird_!”   Rodimus sank back down to a laying position on the padded medical slab.

            “We’re just _worried_ about you,” Drift said, gently, reaching over to pat Rodimus’ helm fondly.  “All this time, I should have realized you were a _lifebearer_.   It all makes sense now.   There just hasn’t been a lifebearer in a………….well, in an incredibly long time.  That’s why we’ve forgotten about their existence.”

            “I still don’t understand what that is, but I guess I was able to refill the Matrix,” Rodimus sighed, staring at the dull vanilla-grey of the ceiling.

            “If our race ever desires lasting peace—then trust me, a lifebearer is _incredibly important_ ,” Drift responded, dragging the chair he’d been sitting in by the door, over to the side of the padded medical recharge slab.   He sat down and folded his arms on the edge of the recharge slab, leaning in towards Rodimus.  “I _always_ knew you were so important—as soon as I truly looked at you in that medi-bay after the chaos incident.   I told you, **_then_** , that you were _my guiding light_.   And that’s what a lifebearer is……….. _a guiding light_.  _A path **home**_.  **_A place of peace_**.”  Drift reached over and placed his hand gently on the side of Rodimus’ faceplate.   “When lifebearers are happy, their environment is positive and full of life.”

            Rodimus could only look away from his precious _Amica Endura_.  “Nobody likes me, Drift……..” he whispered.

            “For one, that _isn’t_ true and you know it.  You know you have _at least two people_ who love you very much,” Drift responded with a light snort, but he still rubbed his thumb gently over the edge of Rodimus’ jaw, even though Rodimus had pulled his face away from the gently cupping hand.   “And secondly, it _doesn’t_ matter.  Not completely.   Lifebearers channel and recycle emotions around them—when _you_ were happy, the _crew_ was happy, weren’t they?   Maybe not everyone liked you, but the ones that loved you made you _happy_ ………and in return, you replenished the happiness in the aura of the crew.  In the ancient past, lifebearers were treasured for their _aura of life_ —they were kept happy, so that they could flourish.”   Drift sighed and tried to pull Rodimus’ face into looking back at him.   “But _you_ have suffered………and lifebearers usually _never_ have to suffer as you have.  That’s why Vector Sigma is concerned that your pain and anger will poison everything that you are.”

            Rodimus let Drift drag his face back into eye contact for a few moments, before pulling it away again and staring at the medical machines off to the wall on his left side.  He didn’t believe in religious mysticism— _that_ was why he had Drift, because Drift believed for him.

            “I _regretted_ leaving you, the moment that I did so.   Ratchet is angry at you because I hear you told them all it was all _your_ fault and you chose to lay the blame on me—so he feels that _you_ wronged me terribly.  He _won’t_ listen to me when I tell him that I chose to try and _protect you_ , by taking the blame,” Drift began.  “You and I took on the burden of Overlord _together_ —I knew that you _never_ wanted to bring him aboard, but Prowl threatening to release him on the streets of Cybertron if you _didn’t_ take him was beyond all decency.  He played on your desire to protect people—he _preyed on your guilt_ over what happened in Nyon.  Prowl should _never_ have threatened to do that, **_ever_**.   It was _my_ idea to interrogate him about what a _phase-sixer_ was, **_you_** wished to drop him into the first super-nova we came across.  We are **_both_** to blame and _neither_ of us should have shouldered the entire blame instead.”

            Rodimus still stared at the wall, trying to pretend he could just vanish and make the pain inside of him non-existent.

            “If I had _known_ you were a lifebearer……..I don’t know………maybe I would have been far more bold and claimed you sooner,” Drift chuckled warmly.   “If we had become _Conjunx Endura_ before the incident with Overlord—I would **_never_** have let us become separated.”

            Rodimus gave a snort.   **_So._**   Drift _couldn’t_ become motivated enough unless he were “more special” than _just_ being himself.

            “Dammit, you _should’ve_ done it!   You _should have asked me_ for an Act of Devotion…….but **_no_** , you had to be all whiney, I’m an ex-Decepticon and I need to prove myself to be an Autobot!”   Rodimus snarled, infuriated, trying to heave himself up on his arms and collapsing.  “I _just_ wanted _my_ Drift.  I just wanted **_my_** _Drift_ …….” Rodimus sobbed.

            Drift stood up and leaned over to help Rodimus sit up again, gently placing the pillow at his back once more.  “What are you talking about?  We were _only_ at the Act of Proferrence,” the old warrior said, calmly…..he was trying to keep his aura gentle and soothing, but Rodimus’ aura was enflamed with embarrassment and anger— _fiery_ , just like him.

            “You _gave_ me **_that ship_** , dammit!  You **_gave_** me that _awesome and amazing ship_!”  Rodimus screamed in fury, aiming a swing at Drift.

            Drift easily caught Rodimus’ fist and grabbed the side of his _Amica’s_ face with his other hand—forcing their optics to meet.    Ah, so **_that_** was why Rodimus was so attached to the _Lost Light_ ……..he’d believed all this time that it was Drift’s Act of Proferrence.  Drift gently leaned forwards and pulled Rodimus’ head to his shoulder in a hug made awkward by their two positions in the room, Drift standing and Rodimus lay-sitting on the slab.

            “I am _so sorry_ , Rodimus,” Drift whispered, gently patting Rodimus on the back, in the center of his yellow spoiler fins.  “This is probably why you were always so prickly, pushing away……..because I was unintentionally pushing _you_ away.”

            Then Drift extricated himself from the hug and stood up straight.   The former Decepticon warrior grinned broadly at the unexpected look of longing on Rodimus’ face.   This was a path they could no longer go down and they _both_ knew it.   No matter _how much_ Drift threatened Megatron with treating Rodimus right…..he saw how **_devoted_** the two were to one another.   It was a relationship that was still new and sometimes rough, but it would become **_beautiful_** in time—and Drift _was not_ going to risk ruining Rodimus’ true happiness ever again.   So, for now, he just reached over and patted Rodimus lightly on top of his helm……..which made Rodimus frown and pout very cutely.   Just as Drift was about to say something, a static-click announced the turning on of the ship’s intercom system.

            **[Attention, all crew,]** Megatron’s deep voice said.  **[We have reached the last set of coordinates that Cybertron gave us for the location of the _Lost Light_.  We are currently attempting a scan for the ship, but if they have used that dangerous method of travel we heard about—we may have lost the ship completely.]**

            “ _God_ …….I hope to Primus that they _didn’t_ use the Warrens…………” Rodimus whispered, bringing his legs up to hug them.

            Just as Drift was going to ask what that was, the ship rocked and buckled hard, as though something had hit it.  Drift was thrown up to the ceiling and Rodimus was bounced off the padded medical slab onto the floor.   Everything in the room that was not attached to a wall or bolted to the floor was upended into chaos in the room and red alert sirens began blaring.

            **[I apologize, apparently the ship _just_ tried to drop in on top of us,]** Megatron’s deep voice said over the comm system with a very dry chuckle.  **[I do believe they are unaware of us, as yet—so all fighters prepare to board while we have the element of surprise!]**

            “Prepare to board…….?  He’ll have to hail them to get them to……….” Drift muttered, standing up and testing his joints.

            “Nope, he’s going to _crash_ it,” Rodimus responded, excitedly getting to his feet and stretching.

            “ _Dammit_ ………..you and I are staying here!” Drift growled, trying to push Rodimus back over to the medical slab.

            “ _Forget it!_    I owe Getaway some _words_ —and a good hard _punch_!”  Rodimus snapped back, pushing Drift away and running out of the small medi-bay.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            It was nothing but fire and fighting on the recreational deck, where Megatron had crashed the military chaser.  Beforehand, Megatron had been smart and concentrated a mass of laser fire on the _Lost Light’s_ hull, to weaken the area before crashing the chaser into it.  The weakened hull crumbled easily and the chaser had no major damage—only a few minor scratches and dents!

            Rodimus was _extremely focused_ on his objective, so he kept himself in race car mode…….avoiding any actual combat and even driving up the walls or even on the ceiling of corridors to _avoid_ any fighting whatsoever.  Megatron did what he could to follow his sparkmate—and when he lost visual contact, the rubber tire skidmarks along the floor and the walls kept him shortly behind the younger Cybertronian.   The former Decepticon Leader had ultra-durable armour, so it was beyond the level of most of the security’s general weaponry—and he was strong now that he knew the placebo known as Fool’s Energon  was just accentuating a mental condition of weakness.   But Megatron _would not fight_ , he would simply push anyone in his way aside or behind him, as he moved past them, to keep following the one he loved.

            Rodimus had finally come to find Getaway hiding up on the bridge with a minimal command crew.  Rodimus wondered if it was just by choice that Getaway had fewer people on the bridge than he ever had—or if some of the command crew may have left to hide in their rooms, once they knew they were under assault?   _But_ …….besides Getaway……… _none_ of these Autobots were great fighters—and Rodimus noticed that **_Atomizer_** was _nowhere in sight_.   Getaway without Atomizer at his side made Rodimus realize that………the escapologist must have even gotten tired of his partner in the mutiny—Atomizer was _probably_ dead as well.   And that somewhat made Rodimus a little sadder………..he’d _hated_ the fact that Atomizer was one of the heads of the mutiny, because he’d _liked_ Atomizer—they talked about art and drawing, style and aesthetics, a lot way back when.   _Too many lives_ …………too many lives were gone forever _because of Getaway_ —he did not deserve to call himself an “Autobot”!

            “Hello, Getaway………did’ja miss me?”  Rodimus growled, transforming into his primary mode mid-jump, and slammed Getaway into the front wall of the bridge.

            “Trust me, _nobody_ missed an asshole like you!”  Getaway retorted, slowly bringing up an arm with one of his hidden knives in it.

            Rodimus was a lot faster than the escapologist.  “I know your stupid tricks, you junkyard reject!”  The red-and-yellow Autobot snarled, slamming Getaway’s arm into the wall so hard that it left a dent and the chromium blade bounced to the floor.

            **{ _Do it_ ………..you know you want to…………..}** a dark, seductive voice whispered in Rodimus’ head.

            Rodimus felt the anger swirling around inside of him.  It felt _so deep_ , **_so dark_** ………….so very **_large_** ………growing and expanding and filling all his senses.   This anger, buried deep within him for so very long now, was now begging so desperately to be set free.   All warnings of his anger poisoning him went straight out of his head……………right now, there was _only_ the anger.   He _wanted_ to see Getaway hurt………….. _he wanted to see Getaway **bleed**_.  He wanted to see **_TERROR_** in Getaway’s optics, before…………..

            “Yes, I really _do_ want to………….” Rodimus whispered back, replying to the voice that entered his head, desperately and dangerously.   He grabbed the arm of Getaway’s that he’d pinned to the wall and yanked on it so hard that it ripped off with a horrifying tear of metal and sparking of circuits.  Purple/pink-tinted Energon-infused lifeblood oozed thickly out of the severed shoulder joint.

            “ _What the hell, Rodimus?!_ ”  Getaway screamed.   “Aren’t you supposed to be the _compassionate_ one?!”

            _There._    _That was it._   **_Terror._**    Getaway’s optics glowed and rolled beneath the blue tempered glass coverings with naked terror.

            “ _Compassionate_?”  Rodimus asked, puzzled.   _That_ wasn’t the emotion he was feeling.   It _wasn’t_ an emotion he was even interested in feeling right now.   Suddenly Rodimus began listing names, the names of the ones Getaway killed……..and the increasing terror in Getaway’s optics and body posture filled him with absolute pleasure.

            **{Do it! _You want to kill him!_    Give into _revenge_!   Give into that desire for revenge!!!} **   The dark voice purred, winding around every corner, every seam of Rodimus’ insides.

            “Rodimus!   _For Primus’ sake!_    **_Stop!_** ”  Megatron ordered at his most commanding of all voices—which would normally make anyone cower in fear that he’d hurt them if they didn’t stop—as soon as he rushed onto the bridge.

            It was _too late_ to stop.   The desire was already there…………..the visible terror in Getaway’s very being fueled him.  Rodimus placed his forearm against Getaway’s tender throat, rotating it so the piping on his forearm was against the fragile neck cables.   Everyone who knew Rodimus had known the piping _wasn’t_ simply for decoration or for vent purposes…………..it was also _high-quality_ weaponry.

            “I don’t want to stop, _not anymore_ ,” Rodimus whispered, really only hearing the voice inside of him.  Megatron’s deep voice sounded so distant, like he was hearing it through a pool of slag.   “Good-bye Getaway, it was nice knowing you,” the red-and-yellow Autobot chuckled.   He set loose the blast at its maximum power, so that at this close range it immediately severed Getaway’s head and a chain reaction of small explosions went off inside the full length of the escapologist’s body, half-melting it into slag.   He was _beyond_ dead, that much was for certain.

            And then Rodimus _laughed_ —a strange, mad tone that _no one_ had ever heard from the younger Cybertronian’s vocalizer before.  He turned his head towards Megatron, laughing madly with a hand over his face…….only a single optic could be seen through the slightly parted fingers.   His blue optics were no longer glowing blue.   The tempered glass coverings were still blue, but the glow was a frightening and impossible black shade.   It was _no longer_ **_Rodimus_** inside that head anymore…………….

            _Just like Galvatron._

            **_It was Unicron._**

            As soon as Megatron realized that, he lunged forwards to try and grab for his sparkmate, but Rodimus was instantly teleported away.  _Teleported?_    Back on Cybertron……….Galvatron had flown.   Did this mean somehow Unicron was in _close range_?   But what was Unicron’s range for teleportation?   Megatron clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth, as he plunged into the Captain’s chair and began directing people with harsh, barking orders.  Megatron needed to get them out of there, because if Unicron was too close………..they could all be doomed to a horrible death.

            “Roller!  Take the helm, _now_ ……….get us back to Censerre’s place immediately,” Megatron ordered.   “Roadfire……..get over to the communications station and bring up a channel to Cybertron, _ASAP_!”  Without looking around at the command crew that had already been on the bridge, Megatron also snapped out orders to them.  “All _Lost Light_ crew members are now confined to their quarters until further notice!”  And then through comm-link to the ones who’d been on the chaser that came with Megatron and Rodimus.  **[Assault crew, patrol the corridors and keep all crew safe in their rooms!]** He commanded of them.   Then he saw Drift appear in front of him.  “Drift, I am sorry to ask this of you……….but you’ll be the one _least likely_ to be chewed out by Ratchet, I think.  Will you please clean up Getaway’s body and take him to the morgue for me?”  He asked of the old warrior.

            Drift was still stunned by Rodimus’ loss………….he had made it to the bridge just as Rodimus had laughed madly and was teleported away.   He had, thankfully, missed seeing his _Amica_ slaughter Getaway.   He simply nodded at Megatron and got to work cleaning the mess.

            **[Hey, _Captain Megs_!   I, and the wolf-guy who likes mauling things, found Froid and Sunder—what should we do with ‘em?]**   Whirl’s voice reported over Megatron’s comm-link, he sounded absolutely giddy.

            **[They’re in Swerve’s bar, correct?  Lock them both in the storage freezer…………I _don’t care_ how you have to bend or break limbs to make them fit,]** Megatron responded, starting to feel very tired and alone.  His _tether_ was gone……………

            “Captain, what should I do with _this one_?” A voice behind Megatron said.  He couldn’t mistake Cyclonus’ rough, but very soft, voice.

            Megatron stood up from the Captain’s chair and walked over to where Cyclonus was holding on to Star Saber.   The religious warrior towered over the purple-and-grey warrior, but he _wasn’t_ putting up any sort of fight.   Megatron wondered why?

            “Ah, you are _too thoughtless_ on your own body,” Megatron chided, softly, seeing all the new cuts and scratches on Cyclonus’ entire body.   The former miner and gladiator grabbed Star Saber by the left shoulder—they were of a similar height, Star Saber was only a few inches taller than Megatron.   “Please, go see Ratchet down in the medi-bay.   Tailgate will fret if he sees you in _that_ condition.”   Then Megatron maneuvered Star Saber back towards the Captain’s chair and forced the old religious warrior down into it roughly, holding him down with all of his strength.  “I know your allegiance is _only_ to Primus, so I will advise you stay right there and _not_ move,” Megatron said, firmly.

            “Captain, I have the comm channel to Cybertron open,” Roadfire reported from the station at the front of the bridge.

            “Thank you,” Megatron responded.  He leaned down to touch a button on the arm of the Captain’s chair, to activate the proximity speaker.  “May I ask whom I am addressing on Cybertron?”  The former Decepticon Leader  asked.

            **[Well, as soon as I heard the communique was from the _Lost Light_ , I came to the communications room myself, Megatron,]** Starscream’s familiar voice said from the speakers.

            “Good, this will save me some precious time,” Megatron sighed.  “We have taken the _Lost Light_ back, however I am afraid we…….” Megatron stopped.  He _didn’t_ want to say it.   _He just didn’t want to say it at all._   “We have _lost_ Rodimus.  _Unicron_ took him…………and he’s somewhere close enough to have _teleported_ Rodimus away.”

            There was a very long pause before Starscream said anything.   Megatron wondered if he had turned off the speaker and was addressing security to prepare things on Cybertron.  He would have done that if _he_ were in charge on Cybertron.

            **[You have my deepest sympathies, Megatron,]** Starscream’s voice finally responded.   **[However……you and I know each other too well—so _what_ are you hiding from me?]**

            Megatron grimaced and his grip tightened hard on Star Saber’s shoulder.  The Cybertronian gave a soft grunt of pain and the old warlord forced himself to relax.

            “Unicron _possessed_ Rodimus and _made him kill_ Getaway,” Megatron began, trying to keep his deep voice professional and even.  “Now Rodimus is a pawn of the Chaos God, along with Galvatron.”

            **[So, Unicron can claim the _living_ …………as well as the dead,]** Starscream’s light voice sighed.

            “Vector Sigma had warned me……….that channeling the primal energy may have left him a little raw and wounded deep inside,” Megatron explained.   “Unicron increased Rodimus’ anger and controlled him through it.”

            Another long pause from Starscream.

            **[I am _very sorry_.   Now what do you plan to do?]**   Starscream finally asked.

            “We’re going to regroup back on Censerre’s world,” the old warlord answered, hanging his head in defeat.  “From there, we will figure out what to do next.”

            **[And your remaining traitorous crew?]**   Starscream inquired, a curious tone in his voice.

            “Grounded until further notice,” Megatron answered, incycling a deep breath.  “Rodimus and I had already made the decision to interview and evaluate them once we got the ship back—but eventually we will be sending a good many of them back to you on Cybertron, I think.”

            **[Good luck, then,]** Starscream chuckled.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Somewhere far away, in an undisclosed part of space…………..a planet glided amongst the stars.   Slow, but still _moving_ through space.   However this was more than a mere planet—this was a _LIVING GOD_.

            And in a special room near the core of this planet-sized God…………….

            **{Welcome, young lifebearer,}** a deep, seductive voice purred inside of Rodimus’ head.  **{It pleases me greatly that you have chosen to step onto the path of darkness.}**

            Rodimus just felt empty and hollow.   _Thoughts?_    What were thoughts?   _Feelings?_    What were feelings?   It felt as if all of his life up to this very point were distant………..as if it were all a **_dream_**.   Was he even _existing_ now?   Did he even exist _anymore_?   Was he just an _empty vessel_ …………waiting to be filled by _something_?   By _someone_?    Rodimus wondered why he gave up his existence……………

            Then, suddenly, Unicron pulled back a bit of the veil he’d laid over Rodimus’ Spark and personality.  The red-and-yellow Autobot was assaulted hard by his deep pain and anger………..the two dark emotions swirling around inside of him, eating away at his compassion and sanity.   It corrupted every bit of his programming and circuitry………….

            _No one_ could save him.  He knew that now.   Even the ones who loved him could **_never_** reach into all that pain and anguish, it was because………..

            Suddenly, Unicron dropped the veil back into place and Rodimus merely felt empty all over again.

            **{You no longer need to feel _any_ of that, not anymore,}** Unicron said into Rodimus’ mind.  **{So long as you serve as my Avatar, you will _always_ be strong and powerful.  So please allow me to gift you with a body that would suit you far better than the _flimsy frame_ you wear now…………}**

            The ancient Cybertronian God of Chaos sent tendrils of dark energy out to embrace and envelop Rodimus.   They wrapped around him like many threads, forming a cocoon.   They slid inside, seeping into his chest and every seam of his frame……..a dark pool of energy gathered in the strange space that had _always_ been within Rodimus’ chest, swirling and congealing—forming an object of writhing darkness.   Within the thickening cocoon around him, Rodimus felt his body altering with the darkness in his chest and the tendrils invading every millimeter of his body.

            **{Soon you shall be transformed into my Avatar of Terror, _Rodimus Unicronus_ ,}** the dark voice of Unicron whispered with desire and lust invading every corner of Rodimus’ mind.  **{You will join my Avatar of Obliteration and my _herald_ , the Avatar of Darkness.   And _soon enough_ , I will also have new brethren for you to conquer with—an Avatar of Lust and an Avatar of Deception.   My strong five Avatars will be able to stand against Primus’ poor five Avatars and I shall _finally_ have my revenge for everything.  I will bring the cleansing fire of chaos and an end to the universe!}**

            Rodimus could feel his true self sinking down below the darkness that had swallowed him.  He could _never_ be saved.  _He **never** could be saved._

            ‘ _Forgive me, Megatron……………Drift…………….’_ Rodimus thought to himself, in those final moments as the darkness wound about all his circuitry, his very being.   _‘Forgive me…………….Blaze………………’_

 

 

 

 

 

_Next Story:   “ **Redemption** ”_


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